Showing posts with label rain. Show all posts
Showing posts with label rain. Show all posts

Sunday, August 12, 2012

A tale of a Sanguine woman about Habagat


Amidst the recent deluge, Habagat that swamped Metro Manila and its neighboring provinces, we saw the intrinsic humor of Filipino people. This humor, coupled with an en0rmous amount of faith, proved to be the Pinoy’s floater in the swim of life. Happiness is found in the heroism displayed by those who did not think twice to rescue the helpless. In times of trouble, and despite their many differences, Filipinos hold hands and watch each other’s back and display the utmost act of kindness. In moments of need they become one. Every act of kindness automatically brings happiness to the soul.

My tale starts when a continuous heavy rain marsh our house. I came from office and walked along the flooded street of Pandacan. I saw how the flood slowly overflow our bungalow house, starting from the dining area going to our….opppss not there, please--bedroom. I heard the flood saying, no time to listen to your plea. Since, we’re all women in our house (me, my mom and my sister)—adrenaline rush, panic and alarm rolled into one arises our weak selves. So, imagine us rolling our sleeves up like a Macho man ready to put our stuff in a safer place. Good thing, my sister who’s the strongest among all of us, was so determined to save everything to the extent of huddling the water from the floor and putting it in three basins. Actually for almost two days that’s what we’re doing. But last Wednesday, no amount of strong arms can cease the flood’s overflow, even though we’re like practicing for a Dragon boat racing, Nadah-- so we let the flood flow. We compare the struggles that we experience from Ondoy to that night, and I think we’re more prepared and geared up.

I’m just glad that we’re born crazy and happy. We still see humor on our situation. We laugh at our folly while looking at some of the little garbage that we had. We continued watching the news and receive some updates from PAG-ASA. Yes, some of things were wrecked. We slept together frightened if we’d wake up floating in the flood. But hey, by God’s provision we literally woke, still with the flood, in which we could use for washing our face. But with faith, that we’re still alive. Yes, we’ve got bruised, traumatized and exhausted but it didn’t end us living angry with the situation—it made us more alert, braver and more grateful.

Because we’re also flooded with our relatives, friends, LOJ family, Media Ministry friends, officemates’ concerns, prayers and assistance. I know as I’m writing this, some of are brothers and sisters whose situation is worse than us. But I believe that in moments of defeat, like a phoenix rising from its ashes, God’s people will held their head high as they remain magnanimous. They’ll slowly restore what they lost 7 times fold. They’ll be more blessed.


Thursday, July 19, 2012

Laughter in the rain

“Raindrops on roses and whiskers on kittens
Bright copper kettles and warm woolen mittens
Brown paper packages tied up with strings
These are the few of my favorite thing."


Carla hums that song as she watches the raindrops outside her window. She quietly shivers with the low temperature and as her eyes set unexpectedly on the scar on her arms. That scar came from being too happy. She recalls that one memorable afternoon of boisterous laughter, sweaty little bodies, hyperactive and flexible movements with her friend.

“Carla, chase after me.” Rolly said to her.

“Woah, are you challenging me?” She asked proudly.

“Yeah, let’s see if you can beat me!”

“Game!”

They run after each other, not even bother if they sometimes fall. Girls will cheer for Carla and the boys, nonetheless for Rolly. Playground---literally turned out to be an adventure spot for these two kids. They possess that time, as Carla thought, but their silliness and cheerfulness had its limit when Carla’s mom—a very strict teacher gripped her hand as she looked hostile to her daughter. 

The children looked shocked with their teacher’s action.

“Why are you running after that little boy?” Her mom angrily asked.

“Mom, we’re just playing since its recess time.” She shockingly answered.

“How many times did I tell you to lock inside the library and study-- How many times?”

Carla didn’t answer back.

She remembers how her mom strikes a thick ruler on her arms—leaving her in crippling pain.  While looking at the scars, she knows that her sweet memory about herself and her mother fades.

Is she growing up stiffly without any reason to find joy?

Is she meant to tire herself in a small room without any chance to roam in a playground?

And on that night, the 12-year old girl went out from her house. She ran in the rain, the way she chased Rolly. The raindrops sound like the laughter of his classmate. She tiptoed and danced circling in the shower. All she wanted is to play in the rain as part of her favorite thing…And she appreciates again the two lost years of boring and restricting herself.

Carla's not aware that her grandma saw her—she called her and said, “Did you enjoy it?”

“Yes, grandma.” She answered with a twinkling eyes and smile.

She won’t forget that night.
She would always remember the rain.
She’ll always laugh like she once did in a playground.
She’ll be carrying the scars, but not the wound anymore.

"When the dog bites
When the bee stings
When I'm feeling sad
I simply remember my favorite things
And then I don't feel so bad
"

Her grandma sang to her while wrapping a towel on her wet shirt.

Google photo

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